The Accident
by Darkfire1
Summary: Just something that popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. A normal mother of two gets hit in the head. Something strange and unexplained happens, and she gets to meet a very interesting young man named Yeshua. Reviews welcome!


_Disclaimer: This story is fiction. I am not a prophet, and I doubt seriously anything like this has ever happened to a real person. My sources are Mathew, Mark, Strong's Concordance, and T. R. Glover's The Jesus of History, Chapter 2: Childhood and Youth. Mathew 13:55 and Mark 6:3 make it clear that Jesus had at least two sisters, probably more. I chose the number three and came up with names for them as they are not listed anywhere I can find. Strong's provided me with the translations to Hebrew. Glover helped my ideas along a bit. _

Author's note: This story has holes in it. It's not a bad bit of work for going on eight hours, but the holes are there. I don't think I will be able to fill them in myself, as I have way too many irons in the fire. However, if my idea intrigues you, and you'd like to fill in some of the blanks, let me know. If the ideas don't go against the original spirit of this story, then I'll let you go for it. 

Reviews are more than welcome! Spot a goof? Tell me! (Not a doctrinal one, mind you. I'm talking grammar, spelling and consistency, here.) 

Enjoy! 

**The Accident**

A typical American mother of two, Janet Wilson worked at the local supermarket stocking shelves. Janet's most extraordinary acts were keeping everyone on schedule at home and the bills paid on time. Between work, kids and everything else, that could be very difficult, but it wasn't anything she wasn't used to and she still managed to get to Church three times a week and spend time with her husband and kids. She didn't think she was special to anyone but them, and that was just fine with her. 

On one such day, a Tuesday, Janet was stocking shelves on the kitchen accessories aisle. The previous night had been a very busy one on the floor, with three separate trucks having come in and deposited their goods. The night stockers had gotten careless, and that could be seen all over the store. Janet griped about it like every one else. 

And perhaps she had more reason than anyone else. Just above her head, where a sloppy worker had placed it, a large box of ceramic dishes sat barely balanced and half off the shelf. The unit itself was none too steady, and as she jostled it by putting more stock onto the lower shelves, the box was upset and it fell -- on Janet's head! A brief flash of pain and the sound of broken dishes got into her mind before blessed darkness came and took her.

* * *

She woke in pain, her limbs feeling heavy and stiff. She could tell that she wasn't in her own bed; it was too firm for it to be, and felt strangely lumpy. She opened her eyes slightly, feeling that if she did so more quickly she would regret it. 

The small motion was noticed and a female voice with a thick Middle Eastern accent came to her ears. "Be still, stranger. You are gravely injured, and moving will hurt you." 

Janet believed that! She rotated her head slowly so as not to aggravate her injuries. The owner of the voice was a fairly young woman, perhaps thirty or thirty-five years old, with fair olive skin. Her face was square, her eyes dark as chocolate and her countenance pleasant. She wore a plain shawl over her head, but her face was not covered and the cloth wasn't black, so Janet didn't think she was from a radically Muslim neighborhood. She was probably Islamic or Israeli. 

_This is just confusing!_ thought Janet. _Well, time for a cliché._ She said, "Where am I?" 

The young woman answered her. "You are in my home. My husband and eldest son found you on the side of the road and brought you here. You have slept for three days. No do not move." 

Janet had jolted at the unexpected time frame. "Three _days_!? Where are my husband and my kids?" 

The woman shook her head. "I know not. No one was with you." Janet groaned and she smiled. "Fear not. We will help you find them. But for now you need to eat and then rest." 

Janet sighed. "Thank you for helping me. I'm not even sure what happened. so what's your name?" 

"I am Mariam. My husband is Yosifiah and my son is Yeshua." 

Janet blinked. The string of names seemed familiar to her, but she didn't know why. "I'm Janet."

* * *

After three more days in which Janet saw no one but Mariam and her three daughters. She learned that there were five boys in the house, Yeshua being the eldest, followed by Ya'akob, Yosefiah, Shimon and Yehudah. The daughters were No'omi, Ruth and Ether. The house was so pre-industrial it wasn't even medieval, a fact which made Janet very grateful that her concussion had been fairly minor. She was certain that these people had no access to modern medical care. 

Which made her wonder, of course, where the heck she was. Something strange was going on, and though it should have been impossible, she didn't think she was even in America any longer, to say nothing of her home town. _I really got to watch out for those rabbit holes_. It seemed like she was in a far younger world than the one she was used to. And yet, language had been no real problem. They thought some of the idioms coming out of her mouth were beyond strange, and she had yet to catch them use a single contraction, but their accents weren't so strong that she couldn't understand them, and neither was hers to them. 

Janet was a fan of Star Trek, and though she'd never even considered that the things that happened in that show could happen in real life, she knew a temporal distortion when she was hip deep in one. So when, on the fourth day, No'omi came in with her breakfast, Janet asked her, "I don't think I'm in my home town any more." _No kidding, Dorothy._

No'omi nodded. "We have all thought the same, that you were from a different land. You are very different from us in speech, you speak of things we do not understand, and your very appearance say that you are neither a Jew nor a Gentile from the near lands. Father thinks you might be from the Far West, or even the Western Islands. He thinks this because of your red hair and your blue eyes." 

"Then where are we now? I'll tell you if he is right." 

"We dwell in the city of Nadzaret()." 

Janet thought quickly, transliterating the name as best she could. What did it sound like? How could it have changed over time and language differences? Nazareth! "Oh my." Suddenly all the little things that had been running through her head clicked into place. This was Nazareth in the First Century! Yeshua, Mariam and Yosefiah. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! His brothers James, Joses, Simon and Judas! She had found herself in the house of God, literally! 

"Was he right?" 

Janet shook herself, quickly answering the girl. "My ancestors were from the Western Islands." From the British Isles. Specifically Wales. "Thank you for telling me, No'omi. I think I need to speak with your parents and your eldest brother. I've figured something out, and they need to know." 

Puzzled, No'omi nodded and left the room. Janet thought carefully. What should she tell them? If she was right, Yeshua would know already, or at least would be able to tell now that she was awake. She didn't know just how much power he had at this age. She had no idea how that worked, and she was sure the Bible didn't say. For that matter, she wasn't sure just how old he was. She sighed. She would just have to play it by ear. 

The elders of the house came into the room, and for the first time since she had arrived in this time, she laid eyes on the boy who had saved her life and who would grow to save her soul. He wasn't the handsomest youth, but his face had character, and she could tell that he smiled a lot. In fact, he probably had a pretty outrageous grin. He was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with wavy brown hair and chocolate eyes that looked just like his mother's. His face was much like hers, as well. 

Yosefiah was the first to speak, as was appropriate. "Welcome to our house, Janet. My daughter has said that you wish to speak with us." 

Janet nodded. "Thank you for taking me in. I know you don't have that much to spare, and I'm grateful." She took a deep breath. "I have no direct proof that what I'm about to tell you is the truth, but I think I've figured out at least part of what happened to me. I am from a future time, as well as a distant land. How I got here, I have no idea, but history tells me who you all are, and most especially your eldest son." 

Both adults gasped, but Yeshua just nodded. "I wondered when you would realize this. You are not supposed to be here." 

"I know. If I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, I could change the future. Parts of it, anyway. And I could accidentally lead the bad guys to you before you were ready to face them. I don't want that to happen, but I don't know how to get back. I don't know how I got here in the first place." 

Yeshua seemed to look through her. "We will see. For now, though, you are in no position to be a danger to us as you are not yet well enough to leave the house. And you need not worry for my safety. My Father will protect me until I may do so for myself." He smiled at her. 

And she smiled right back. _Yes, I suppose He would._

* * *

So it was decided that they would just wait until she was better to try and find a way to send her home. She vowed that, should she be stuck permanently in this time that she would simply remain in Nazareth until she could join Yeshua without fear of altering the future. Even if the Christ was Himself safe from what those alterations might cause, there could be plenty of repercussions through history. Some things she wouldn't mind changing, but others were quite beautiful and many of them depended upon the ugly to exist. The Catholic Church had done so much good and evil over the centuries, and it was only one example. 

Slowly, over a period of about a month, Janet gained strength. She never asked Yeshua to heal her, only that He help her gain strength, and that she did in prayer. And though she was careful not to ask too many things, feeling she would be better off asking them of Him in her own time, she did ask a few questions, information questions that she'd never get the answers to in the future. Prayers would always be answered, but queries seldom were. One question set Him laughing out right. "So, what happened to the dinosaurs?" 

"They were too big to survive in the new world, so they drowned." 

She became quite fond of the young Lord, and she marveled at how privileged she was to know Him like this. She also got to meet Yochanan, who would be John the Baptist, finding him to be a quiet young man with an easy smile. More than once, she caught herself forgetting just who she was with, as He acted just like any normal kid of this time, but at others, He had a look on His face that told of foreknowledge He would rather He didn't have. 

Almost a year had passed when Yeshua sought her out where she was helping Mariam in the kitchen. She had learned a lot from the woman about ordinary matters of the house, how to prepare Jewish food in this time and how one did the everyday things that technology had made so much easier. She actually found it relaxing to do things the hard way some times. It freed the mind to stop thinking. He came inside and said, "It's time." 

Janet didn't have to ask what He meant. She had figured out long ago that, once He decided it was time for her to return to her own time, He would make sure she got there without harm. She nodded, then turned to Mariam. "Thank you so much for your kindness." She hugged the younger woman and said, "I'll miss you." 

Mariam hugged her back tearfully. "We will meet again, Janet. Some day, we will meet again." 

Janet turned to follow Yeshua out to the yard. She found a lump in her throat and knew she was going to miss this place. And knowing what the boy beside her would soon face, grief threatened to overtake her. "Is there no other way, Yeshua? Must you die for we fools to save us from ourselves?" 

"God's will be done. It is written, and so shall it be. But I am glad that you wish it were otherwise. I have enjoyed your friendship." 

"And I've enjoyed getting to know you. Will I see you again before I die?" 

He stopped to think about it for a moment, then He smiled gently. "Yes, you will. I promise." He held out His hand. "Farewell, my friend." 

"Until then, my Lord." And she took his hand.

* * *

Janet woke to a monstrous headache, the sound of a screaming ambulance and a needle being shoved into her arm. "We've got a rhythm! Shallow, but stable." Other readings were shouted into the air around her and she heard someone say that her husband was following the ambulance in his car before she lost consciousness again.

* * *

When she woke again, she was in a darkened private room in a modern hospital. Somewhat silly-minded at that moment, she mused that it was no more comfortable than the straw pallet she'd woken up on in No'omi's bed chambers. She looked around the room, some how sure that her head wouldn't explode with pain. Henry, her husband, was asleep in a good chair next to the bed. She guessed that the kids were probably with her mother back at the house. The older woman was quite able to handle the two rambunctious youngsters, having raised quite a few herself. Briefly, she wondered how in the world Mariam had handled raising so many children. But it was much more common back then to have such large families. 

Janet felt tears begin to burn in her eyes. Everyone she had come to know over the past year was gone, and she wasn't even sure she hadn't dreamed the whole thing. After all, it hadn't even been an hour between the time she was hit by that box and the first time she woke up in the ambulance. What if it had been a hallucination caused by her concussion? Except... 

She looked up suddenly. There He was, standing on the other side of the bed. She would have cried out happily and loudly, but He held up one finger to his lips to shush her. "Hello, my friend. And no, you're not dreaming." 

She grinned at Him. He appeared older, now. She'd left an eighteen-year-old behind in Nazareth. This was a man in His early thirties. The age He'd been when He died. He was dressed in simple modern style, with a white button down shirt tucked into khaki slacks and His wavy hair restrained by an elastic band at the nape of His neck. "I wish you could stay. I'd love for my little boys to know you like I do." 

"You'll have to introduce us. It's probably going to be quite some time, you know, but some day they'll get to meet me in person, too." 

"Is it all right if I tell them about you? As I know you, I mean?" Of course she would tell them about Christ, but telling them about Yeshua might not be allowed. At any rate, she felt like asking permission, just in case. 

He just grinned at her. "Nothing wrong with being cautious. And no, I don't mind. You can tell Henry, too." 

"How did it happen? How could I have been in the past for a year and almost no time pass here?" 

He just shook His head. "Sorry. Not something I can tell you." 

She sighed. "I'm going to miss you, Yeshua." 

He smiled gently. "Don't ever forget that you can talk to me at any time, Janet. I will always listen, and I'll help out whenever I can." 

"Yeah, but can you baby-sit?" she quipped. 

He laughed. "Afraid not." 

"Then I have one request." He raised an eyebrow at her. "When I finally come home for good, I get to hug the stuffing out of you!" 

He grinned. "Deal." He laid a hand on her forehead. "Farewell again, my friend." 

"Until then, my Lord."

* * *

Henry couldn't really believe it when Janet told her story, but she said that was okay. She understood completely. "And don't worry. I'm not telling anyone but you and the boys. I'm not going around like some televangelist and selling my story to the world. He doesn't want that, and neither do I. And it's not like I have any concrete proof. It's enough that I know it happened." 

Henry smiled and accepted that she believed it. It didn't contradict the Word in any way, so there was no problem with her telling the boys like it was a bedtime story. He loved her and she was safe. That was all that mattered to him. 

His disbelief wavered a few times over the years as her experience had etched its presence onto her life. She became much more involved at Church, teaching Bible classes and visiting sick brethren at home. As she held their third son in her arms just hours after giving birth, she sang a Jewish lullaby that Henry had never heard before. She hadn't sung it to their other boys, and it made him wonder. She had started adding several traditionally Jewish dishes to their menu, ones that she'd thought he would like. She had been right, of course, but he was at a loss to explain where she could have learned them. And she always prayed twice a night. Once to the Father, in the formal way she had always prayed before, and once to the Son, speaking to Him as she would a close personal friend. 

Thirty years passed, and Janet and Henry became grandparents. Janet told her "bedtime story" to the grandchildren, letting them get to know their Lord as well as she was able. 

Thirty years more, and five generations stood around her bed. All of them knew the story of Yeshua, as she wanted them to. Henry was crying, knowing she was starting to let go. "Don't cry so hard, baby. I'm going home, and I know I have to wait a while, but you'll be home soon, too. Don't hurry along or give up. Live as long as you can in this world. Just remember, you've got somewhere else to be eventually." 

He nodded. Then he did something he had never done since the accident. He acknowledged her story. "Tell Yeshua hi for me?" 

She grinned brilliantly, her eyes lighting up as they hadn't been able to in months because of the weight of sickness upon her. "I will." 

That night, after everyone but Henry had left and the old man was asleep in the chair next to his wife, she woke up for one last time. "He finally believed me." 

His voice came from the other side of the bed. "He's believed you for a while now. He was just too stubborn to admit it." She turned to face Him. "Are you ready?" 

She nodded and closed her eyes for the last time.

* * *

And somewhere no one on Earth could see it, Jesus Christ got hugged to within an inch of his eternal existence. "I missed you." 

"Welcome home, my friend." 

The End

* * *

_() Nadzaret is one pronunciation given in Strong's. There is no Hebrew translation. _


End file.
